We’ve enjoyed unseasonably warm temperatures this winter. Truly, if you paid no mind to the naked trees, you could have very well mistaken it for spring.

Lest you think this post an act of braggadocio, let me assure you: it is nothing of the sort. As a matter of fact, with several friends abiding in the polar vortex, I’ve been careful to keep this good fortune to myself.

Then a certain rodent had to go and proclaim an early spring . . . thus sparking our twist of fate.

It snowed.

And (if the forecast has anything to say about it) it shall continue to snow for the next week, at least. Apparently, Idaho weather does not like to be told what to do.

Thankfully, such conditions call for the good stuff: candles and warm beverages; snuggling in with the ones you love; books and conversation; maybe even the planning of a trip or two.

With that, I wish you a happy weekend. Whatever conditions surround you, may your heart be warmed with love and happiness . . . and a little something for which to look forward.

The week held a plethora of diversions, and yet there’s nothing much to report . . .

I was randomly selected for drug testing. In the words of my honey, they are barking up the wrong tree. All the same, I nearly blew my eyeballs out trying to get the breathalyzer to beep; and it was somewhat appalling to know a stranger stood guard right outside the restroom, and I couldn’t flush the toilet or wash my hands immediately following. Eew.

On a brighter note, I was able to “collect a sample” on demand (something of a miracle, that); and the elevator didn’t fail me on the way down to the basement (equally impressive).

Of course, to recover, I had to make tacos for dinner–Double Decker tacos, no less, with all the fixings . . . including green onions.

I’ve not had a raw green onion for quite some time. It took me right back to my childhood.

You see, my dad had two great aunts: spinster sisters, they had carved out a comfortable life for themselves–laughing, reading, doing as they pleased. Every so often we’d go over for dinner. Mom and dad would sit with them around the table and talk for hours; I’d lounge about on the sofa, playing with my dolls, perusing books and magazines, watching television.

And the food! If food truly is the way to a man’s heart, I’m amazed there wasn’t a line a hundred miles long. No matter the menu, it was always delectable; and there was always enough to feed an army. Platters and bowls covered every inch of the table. And without fail, there were green onions.

Those ladies loved their onions. And it tickled them pink that a little girl with strawberry blond hair loved them too. Here’s our onions, Amy, they’d cheerfully announce. They’d hand me the bowl and I’d dutifully place them on the table. Then they’d chortle with glee as I spooned a helping onto my plate. You like onions; that’s a good sign, they’d say. You’re obviously destined for greatness. Then they’d throw their heads back in a fit of hilarity.

Funny how a taste (or scent or sound) can take you right back . . .

With that, I wish you a happy weekend. May your days be full of small blessings and the simplest of pleasures . . . plenty to make you smile.

Greetings & salutations

Just in case you're wondering what you've gotten yourself into, my blog's a lot like life: it's a hodge-podge. So pour yourself a steaming cup of goodness, settle in, and I'll tell you all about it--whatever 'it' happens to be . . .

The fine print

Magpie & Muttonfly is the place where I write about all the things that make our stories grand. Emphasis on me, myself, and I. Any review or recommendation posted on this site is solely my own {unless otherwise noted}. Occasionally you will find a link to Amazon.com. An eternal window shopper, I only list items that strike my fancy. Any time you click the link and proceed to make a purchase, I get a wee referral fee. You will not be charged more--but once or twice a year I earn enough to purchase a tin of my favorite tea. So I do thank you for that!